


head in the dust, feet in the fire

by bloodyhalefire



Category: Hannibal (TV), King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galahad loves Tristan, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, POV Outsider, are we even surprised by that, bors rly said tact? not for me, i don't know how to tag im sorry, the summary makes it sound so much darker than it is omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyhalefire/pseuds/bloodyhalefire
Summary: “Bors,” Galahad starts slowly, and it’s only then that Gawain allows himself to face their youngest knight, “where is Tristan?”Though primarily trained on Bors in anticipation of an answer, Gawain soon noticed that it is not just him that is drawing Galahad’s gaze. He struggles to understand the cause for this until he follows Galahad’s eyes; he’s looking at Bors’ tunic and Gawain’s hands.They’re red with Tristan’s blood.
Relationships: Galahad & Gawain (King Arthur 2004), Galahad/Tristan (King Arthur 2004)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43





	head in the dust, feet in the fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frogo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogo/gifts).



> title from "soldier" by fleurie
> 
> this is dedicated to the loml and my biggest cheerleader, im so sorry to you and whoever reads this bc it's probably not great
> 
> either way, pls enjoy yet another pov outsider fic by me, but before you do i posted one of my favorite scenes from king arthur [here](https://mysticdevils.tumblr.com/post/640760593497882624/no-but-its-the-way-this-scene-lives-in-my-head) so if u need serotonin pls watch it

The moment that the three of them return from their scouting expedition, Bors and Gawain dismount their horses. Bors hurries to return them to the stables and grab a physician while Gawain struggles to wrap a barely-conscious Tristan’s arm around his shoulders. He struggles severely under the weight of it, and as such it isn’t until Bors returns that any substantial progress is made in moving Tristan. 

“The physician will meet us at Tristan's tent,” Bors says, voice straining from the deadweight of another body. “We just gotta get him there.”

Gawain huffs a laugh at that, though it’s completely void of humor. “I never thought that I would say this,  _ ever, _ but I'm damn glad that Arthur made us accompany Tristan for this,” he declares, voice just as strained, and it’s true. Fuck everything is it true, because if neither he nor Bors were with Tristan then the man would have bled out by now; Tristan is strong and more than capable, one of the most capable of the Sarmarian knights if Gawain is forced to be honest, but the arrow lodged in his side hit an artery. It took a substantial amount of effort from both Bors and himself to bandage the wound so that it slowed the bleeding well enough to at least give them a  _ chance _ of getting back. 

“I don’t need a physician,” Tristan rasps in his ear, thankfully interrupting Gawain’s musings before they got too dark. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” Bors scoffs as he lays Tristan down onto the cot; it’s only then that Gawain even realizes they’re at the tent, too preoccupied with his thoughts to even notice. “The fact that me and Gawain had to carry your sorry ass all the way here says otherwise.”

Tristan grunts in response, and Gawain is hard pressed to say if it’s from annoyance or pain. “Bors and I need to check in with Arthur, but we’ll be back soon,” he says quietly. “Someone will be here soon.”

When Gawain doesn’t get any form of response to this announcement, he looks up at Bors in concern. He’s met with the same emotion mirrored back. “We should go,” Bors says, uncharacteristically quietly, before he walks out of the tent without Gawain’s response. Gawain scrambles to follow. 

The physician and an attendant pass them as they hurry by, but Gawain doesn’t pay either of them any mind in his haste. 

The moment the door is in sight the two of them practically sprint down the hall and barge into the room without preamble, the sound of the door hitting the wall echoing throughout the room. Arthur immediately stops talking at the noise, eyes widening a bit in shock, while the rest of the knights turn toward them hastily; Gawain is surprised that Galahad hadn’t fallen to the floor, what from the quickness in which he spins around. Nobody speaks for a moment, and Gawain is surprised yet again by the fact that Arthur's normally stoic look has cracked.

And  _ dammit, _ he thinks suddenly, because if  _ Arthur _ is showing concern—a rare occurrence in and of itself—he can’t imagine Galahad; Gawain keeps his eyes trained on Arthur in hopes that Galahad doesn’t focus his attention on him. It works, but he feels no victory in it. 

“Bors,” Galahad starts slowly, and it’s only then that Gawain allows himself to face their youngest knight, “where is Tristan?”

Though primarily trained on Bors in anticipation of an answer, Gawain soon noticed that it is not just him that is drawing Galahad’s gaze. He struggles to understand the cause for this until he follows Galahad’s eyes; he’s looking at Bors’ tunic and Gawain’s hands. 

They’re red with Tristan’s blood. 

“Where is Tristan?” Arthur asks this time, and his commanding tone finally forces Bors to answer. 

“He’s been bleeding something awful since yesterday,” Bors eventually admits, and the words cause Galahad to jerk forward a bit as if he’d been hit in the stomach. “Some bastards got him with an arrow in the gut.”

Gawain turns toward him and glares at his bluntness and lack of tact; Galahad looks nauseous. It only takes one flick of Arthur's eyes to the boy, who looks mere seconds from vibrating out of his skin, before he sighs minutely. “You’re dismissed, Galahad,” he announces before nodding at Gawain. “You too, Gawain. The rest of us will come by when we’re done here.” 

All it takes is that sentence for Galahad to scramble out of his seat and sprint out the door. Gawain watches him go before turning back to look at the rest of the knights. Lancelot smiles weakly at him. “Go make sure he’s alright,” he speaks up. “I’m sure he needs the company.”

Gawain nods before hurrying out the door, a sinking feeling in his gut. 

* * *

When Galahad throws open the tent, Gawain hot on his heels, the boy skids to a stop so abruptly that Gawain almost runs straight into him. It doesn’t take long to realize why. 

If Gawain thought Tristan looked bad before, he looks even worse now that Galahad is here; the knight’s torso is still covered in blood despite whatever the nurse had done once he and Bors dropped him off, and his face is still as unnaturally pale as it was when he was first hit. 

Galahad is frozen in place as he stares at the scene, the look in his eyes just shy of uncomprehending. It isn’t until the man in front of them grunts quietly, eyes weakly fluttering open, that Galahad snaps out of it. 

“Tristan,” Gawain hears the boy whisper faintly as he runs to the other side of the tent and falls to his knees in front of Tristan’s cot; Gawain stays where he is and averts his eyes a little so as to at least attempt to give the two some privacy. “Tristan, oh my god.”

Tristan manages a weak smile. “It… looks worse than it is,” he rasps before closing his eyes again; the response is delivered so quietly that Gawain only barely manages to hear him. 

“Well it looks like you’re on the verge of dying, and you can’t do that. You  _ can’t,” _ Galahad whispers. “I won’t let you leave me, not now. Not ever.”

Tristan stays silent in the wake of Galahad’s confession, the only indication that he’s even still there with them being the shallow yet steady rise and fall of his chest. When Galahad releases a quiet whine from the back of his throat at the lack of response, Gawain finally brings himself to move forward and lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. Galahad looks up at him with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. 

“Don’t worry, pup,” Tristan finally says, and at the sound of his voice Galahad and Gawain immediately turn to look his way; though his eyes are still closed, at least Tristan’s voice is a bit more steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Galahad smiles brokenly as he chokes on a sob poorly disguised as a laugh. “You better not. I need you.”

“You are our brother, Tristan.” Gawain turns at the new voice; in the entryway stands Dagonet, Bors, Lancelot, and Arthur. It becomes clear that the statement came, surprisingly, from Dagonet when the man quietly adds, “We need you, too.”

The man in question doesn’t show any sign that he’s registered the arrival of their brothers let alone heard Dagonet’s statement, and the concern they’re all filled with is clear as day. 

“If nothing else then to keep Galahad occupied,” Bors suddenly adds in an obvious attempt at lightening the mood and averting Galahad’s attention. 

Gawain can’t help but feel grateful for the effort, especially when Galahad finally tears his gaze away from Tristan to squint at Bors suspiciously. 

Mischief flickers in Lancelot’s eyes at Bors’ statement; the knight never misses a chance to tease their youngest member. “Agreed. You, Gawain, and Bors were gone for less than a week and yet Galahad was acting like the world was ending. He was like a lost puppy.”

Gawain smirks a bit at the declaration; he has no doubt that it's the truth. “The poor boy was awful before the two of ya got your shit together,” Bors muses, and Gawain barely manages to hold back a snort at the look of utter betrayal on Galahad’s face. “I shudder to imagine what he would be like if he lost you so soon after getting a taste.”

At this point Galahad is practically fuming, and his face is burning red with embarrassment. It’s a much better look on him than the one of devastation and helplessness that he had adorned just moments ago. “You–“

“That true, little one?” Tristan mumbles, his first words since everyone else’s arrival. Galahad’s mouth snaps closed at the interruption and he whips around to look at the injured knight. When Tristan gets no response, he cracks an eye open. 

Galahad stares at him for a moment before leaning back on his heels and crossing his arms with a huff. The pout on his face combined with his still-present blush is almost comical. “Fine,” the boy grumbles. “I might have missed you enough that I bothered everyone with it. Sue me.”

Tristan’s lip twitches up a bit at that as he closes his eyes yet again, and though the movement can barely be called a smile with how small it is, the sight visually calms Galahad.

It visually calms  _ all of them. _

“I missed you too, pup,” Tristan whispers, and there’s a level of affection in the man’s voice that he has never before heard; Galahad practically falls forward at the words. “As I do each time we part, no matter the length of time.”

Gawain exchanges looks with Arthur, Lancelot, Bors, and Dagonet at Tristan’s declaration; the tenderness of the moment makes Gawain feel almost as if he’s intruding. 

After a moment Arthur clears his throat. “I believe it is safe to say that Tristan is in capable hands,” he declares, voice lacking inflection but eyes fond. “We will return later with meals for the two of you.”

Galahad nods absently, eyes not straying from Tristan. “Okay.”

At the acknowledgment they all turn to leave; right before Gawain exists he turns back to look at them. It’s been mere seconds since Gawain looked away from them and yet in that time Galahad somehow managed to fit himself on the cot with Tristan and burrow into the man’s uninjured side. The two of them hold eye contact for a minute before Galahad mouths  _ thank you. _

Gawain nods once with a small smile before walking out. They’ll be alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> it's the way that i have no fucking idea how to end fics for me,,,, anyway idk how to feel about this at all but i hope you all enjoyed this!!
> 
> [my tumblr](https://mysticdevils.tumblr.com/post/640935074647474176/every-time-i-try-to-link-my-tumblr-in-the-end)   
>  [my spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/alessiaiscool?si=kt28GMB4RQi58ZhS1an6nQ)
> 
> thank you so much for reading <3


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